Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Monday, December 24, 2012

Today marks two occasions: Christmas Eve and your being alive for 20 weeks.

I really wanted to do up the holidays for you. I had grand plans. However, we just barely managed to get a Christmas tree purchased and decorated right under the wire, I still haven't bought gifts for your grandparents, and there is currently a pile of Amazon boxes by the tree in lieu of wrapping. Maybe next year, my dear. Plus, at 17 months, you'll be more able to appreciate things like stocking stuffers, Christmas pajamas, and wrapping paper. We *did* manage to pre-purchase a giant ham for dinner. Total porky victory.

You have managed to supercede my expectations all this month. You started daycare with absolutely no issues, you've been putting yourself to sleep in your own crib, you are mostly smiles and giggles. However, you are working through a runny nose/diarrhea/insane diaper rash, and that high-pitched squeal? Up there in the whistle register? Yeah, that's back.

You are also more or less rolling over consistently...

...except when you get distracted by one of the overhanging toys.

Some of your favorite things include:

Being tossed into the air.

Watching/hearing someone say "babababa."

Getting your feet nommed.

Putting things in your mouth.

And our relationship has eased quite a bit. I am, for the first time, able to truly enjoy our time together. It's really because of how capable you are; it means that all that tight anxiety that endlessly sat like a boulder in my stomach has disappeared. I can be with you and really *be* with you, instead of constantly worrying about how we're going to teach you how to sleep on your own, or whether you're being stimulated enough, or whether you like me. Finally, all of that: gone. And thank Zeus. That leaves more time for vital things like to snuggling and playing and nomming your cheeks. I tell you kid, I never thought we'd get here, but I am finally having fun.

There was something bittersweet about this process. On one hand, I am relieved that she had such an easy time of it. On the other hand, I'm like "really? You don't care at all that you're sleeping alone for the first time in your life?"

"jeez mom, get out of my room"

I read on other parent blogs about these kids who need their moms to be close, who get scared when they start becoming more independent, etc. Not this kid. This kid will be hitchhiking to New York as soon as she can sit up unassisted.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Yesterday was my first day back to work, and also Linnea's first day at daycare. Of course, she did spectacularly (ate fine, slept relatively well). She spent her first bit of time in the space just staring around the room as I tried to say goodbye. Oh well.

I've been super conflicted about this. On one hand, I was nervous to leave her with someone else. What if she didn't like the caretakers? What if she liked them too much? Did I leave enough bottles for her? Did I give the caretakers enough information about her? What if she didn't sleep? What if she didn't eat? Etc., etc.

On the other hand, I felt a little bit of relief to not have to "be on" all the time anymore. I looked forward to feeling competent about my day-to-day life again. I really looked forward to being able to get coffee, or a sandwich, or go to the bathroom whenever I wanted. I also was excited to leave Linnea with people who are used to babies and know what to do with them. While I struggled each day to find the right balance of stimulation and independent play for Linnea, these caretakers are experienced in figuring this out. Plus, Linnea would get to "hang out" with other babies, which I really wanted.

However, despite the above, there was something almost viscerally traumatic when I got home, picked Linnea up to cuddle, and realized that she smelled completely different. She smelled like someone else, someplace else, and it was clear that she had had an experience that were separate from me for the first time in her life. I wound up holding Linnea for a quick evening nap just so I could feel connected with her again.